


Eyes

by mystery_deer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, someone's got a crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 02:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17133167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystery_deer/pseuds/mystery_deer
Summary: Greg notices





	Eyes

Greg adored Mycroft’s eyes. They were one of the only parts of him he couldn’t control perfectly and Greg turned to them for guidance more often than he cared to admit. 

“Gregory.” Mycroft said in a flat tone, hands folded neatly on his desk. He exuded power and Greg felt his headache (caused by Sherlock of course) prepare itself to grow. It wasn’t that Mycroft would yell, he’d never yell (too good for that) but he would-

“I’m glad you’re here. How’s Sherlock?” Do that.

“You could just-”

“Call you? Yes. I haven’t though so tell me, how’s Sherlock?” Yup, definitely making some elbow room up in his head for the headache. He hoped it had a penthouse suite up there, only the best for his headache. “Gregory.” Mycroft said sternly and Greg looked up, ready to snap at the other man when he met his eyes.

And he saw.

He saw the worry and the stress manifesting themselves underneath his eyes from too many late nights and overtime. He noticed suddenly the mounds of paperwork surrounding him in neat little piles. He saw that his eyes were just a little pink and he nearly fell over in shock when he realized it was from crying. (Tissues in the wastebasket, no cold) The thought of Mycroft Holmes breaking down…worried, stressed, overworked Mycroft Holmes who just wanted to know that it was worth it. Wanted confirmation that his brother was safe, that he could be absolutely sure of that at least.

Greg sighed and sat down without being asked to, earning an annoyed exhale from the well dressed man across from him. “Sherlock’s fine. Annoying as ever but fine as far as he goes.” He yawned. “That assault charge he was slapped with went away.” It was semi-accusatory and Mycroft smiled like a cat who had just eaten a particularly delicious canary. Greg shivered, hoping whoever the poor bastard was who had charged Sherlock was at least still alive.

“He is.” Mycroft answered and Greg jumped, looking shocked.

“What? The man who charged your-?” Mycroft nodded and Greg threw his head back. “Fucking Holmes’….” They were quiet for a beat.

“Are you-” Mycroft said at the same time that Greg said

“You’re doing a good job you know?” Another beat, longer this time. More of a rhythm really. Greg began to sweat. “Uh, I mean-”

“Thank you.” Greg stopped before he turned the handle and escaped from the iceman’s office, turning his head slightly. “I know I do.” There it was, the reason his headache was considering a bigger house in the suburbs with its wife. He turned to tell him off but met his eyes once again.

They were joyous.


End file.
